


The Hunger Games: Reigniting The Flames

by Finnickfloatsmyboat



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies) RPF
Genre: Multi, everlark, katniss everdeen - Freeform, the hunger games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8856934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnickfloatsmyboat/pseuds/Finnickfloatsmyboat
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is still in trouble with the Capitol after all these years for her stunt with the berries during her and Peeta's Games, and President Snow plans on a punishment. Katniss manages to settle down with Peeta and start a family despite her saying she'd never have kids due to the tortuous games. Katniss' daughter Willow is now 16, and it's time for the reaping. Willow finds herself to be a participant in the 92nd Hunger Games and it's safe to say it was no happy accident.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It is the day before the reaping and in total; it will be my 16th reaping. I sit up in my bed and look over at the window. The sun hasn't raised yet, which means I'll have time to go into the woods before school. School in District 12 is pointless in my opinion, I mean who wants to learn about the properties of coal when the most we'll ever do is dig it up and chuck it in a cart off to the Capitol? I quietly slide out of bed and walk over to my wardrobe, being careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. I throw on a long-sleeved t-shirt and some trousers before staring at my own reflection in the mirror, debating on what to do to my hair. My long brown hair hangs limply around my heart shaped face. I find it strange how on some days, I look like my mum, Katniss, and then on other days, I look like my dad, Peeta. I have bright blue eyes that stand out against my olive coloured skin, and a spray of freckles across my nose and high cheek bones. I loathe my freckles. I decide on doing a quick fishtail braid. I'd rather not do the side braid my mum does, I don't like being similar to her, although, living in district 12, almost every girl wears their hair in a braid. "District 12: the town of braids," I mutter to myself, laughing at it slightly as I pull a soft, wool hat over my head. I tiptoe downstairs and put on my old worn socks with my brown leather boots that are slightly too big as I'd been given them as a present for my birthday last year but haven't grown into them like my mum expected. I take my cardigan off of the hook by the back door and put it on as I grab a slice of yesterday's bread from the kitchen counter. I silently slip out the back door of my home in the Victors village and walk towards the Seam. My parents would rather I didn't go out hunting on my own, so I have my whole family thinking I go out for a walk around the District every morning.

As I move through district 12 eating my bread, I smell the familiar smell of burnt coal. Most people don't like the smell, but living here, you get used to it. Of course, I imagine the Capitol smells a lot better, or so my parents say. As Victors hey have to travel there every year for the hunger games and so they mentor the poor souls being sent into the arena, like a lamb to the slaughter. People in the Capitol think I'm a lot like my mum and often, too often compare me to her. I am not my mum. I am my own person. Although we share a few qualities, I am definitely not like Katniss Mellark. I'm always referred to as 'the girl on fire's daughter'. Of course, I am her daughter but to be constantly referred to as that gets aggravating as if I don't have my own name. Is it so much to ask to be called Willow? I reach the end of the Seam with the wind blowing the loose strands of my hair into my face. Having to constantly flick the hair out my face as I go, I find my way to the house where my mum used to live with my Aunt Prim and my Grandmother. As I walk through the door, I'm greeted by aunt Prim's cat Buttercup. "Hiya Buttercup," I say as I stroke his ear. At least he likes me; he and my mum have some 'issues'. Even after all these years, Buttercup prefers this small dwelling over our home in the Victors Village. Technically, we have 2 homes in the Victors Village, but my Grandmother and Aunt Prim stay in the house assigned to my mum, whereas me, my Dad, Mum and Brother all stay in the house assigned to my Dad. I walk over to the wardrobe and pull open the doors, feeling for my Mum's hunting jacket in the darkness of the room. As I pull the jacket from the wardrobe I run my fingers along the soft leather, giving me a sense of comfort. It was my Grandfather's before it was my Mother's, and I always wished I could've met him before he'd died. I pull on the over-sized leather jacket and I grab my mum's game bag and abruptly head out the door again, into the chilly morning woods of District 12.

Before me stands a huge fence that surrounds District 12. The very fence that's meant to keep us cooped in. We are told the fence is for our own protection, to keep out wild animals. I know better than to think that. Out in the woods, there are weapons, there's food, and there are Mockingjays that sing forbidden songs. It's what the Capitol is afraid of: freedom. I walk alongside the fence until I reach a section where there's a slight gap. It's supposed to be high voltage but we hardly have electricity during the day, only for a few hours or so, plus there was no buzzing sound, so it's not turned on. I position myself on my stomach and wriggle underneath the fence and I quickly pace it into the protection of the trees, covering my tracks as I go just as my Mum taught me to do. I carry on making my way deeper into the forest until I reach a hollow tree. I crouch down and reach into the tree before pulling out a bow and a quiver filled with arrows. Setting it down beside me I pull out the sharp, wooden knife-like weapons I carved myself, and shove it in a side pocket of the quiver. I sling the quiver over my shoulder and begin my hunt.

I weave my way through the trees, treading carefully on the soft pine on the forest floor. I manage to pick off a rabbit and two squirrels, although, I don't quite hit them in the eye like my mum can. I ready myself to shoot a bird when I see a flicker of movement. I lower my bow slowly and turn to find a Turkey. My eyes grow wide in amusement as I watch the Turkey walk out right in front of me. I raise my bow once more but it seems to have realised that I'm a threat and is now running away. I grunt and quietly follow after it. It finally comes to a stop and I crouch behind some rocks to avoid scaring it away again. I try to get a good angle to shoot at it but using a bow won't do me any good so I revert to using my wooden knives. I steadily hold my knife and aim at the Turkey. Suddenly I hear a crunch behind me and I instinctively throw the knife in the direction of the noise. Luckily, the knife lodges into a tree and narrowly misses my little Brother, Rye.  
"I think I just peed a little." He says in shock.  
"Rye, you shouldn't have followed me."  
"Well I wanted to come on a walk with you and you said you'd bring me but you didn't wake me like you'd said you would, so I followed you."  
"Well, you're too young anyway."  
"I'm old enough to know how to follow you without you noticing."  
"That's not the point, you're only eleven."  
"Actually, I'm eleven and two-sixths."  
I roll my eyes and there's a moment of silence before Rye speaks again.  
"I can see now that you're certainly not on a casual walk."  
"Yeah, well I could see that you ate the last biscuit that dad was saving for Haymitch but that doesn't mean I follow you around to see what you're eating."  
"For the last time, I didn't know that it was for Haymitch! And anyway, when mum finds out-"  
"Mum isn't going to find out because you are  _not_  going to tell her!"  
"But Willow, the woods are dangerous and what if we get caught..."  
"Oh stop whining Rye. If you were worried about getting caught, you shouldn't have followed me past the fence. Did you even cover your tracks? Besides, I have weapons that I know how to use so I could easily take down a wild dog or something."  
Rye looks at me with worry spread across his face.  
"Ugh, fine. Let's go home. Just promise me you won't tell on me."  
Rye nods, "I promise."  
"Good."  
I take his hand and lead him back to the hollow log where I stash away the weapons. "I could have gotten my hands on a Turkey you know."  
"What's so special about a Turkey?"  
"I could have traded it for something nice."  
"Oh..."  
"Oh well."  
We reach the fence once more and I urge Rye to go first and I follow shortly after. "I need to stop by the Hob on the way."  
Rye doesn't look too pleased. "Is that the place with all the scary people?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, why would you need to go there? Aren't you afraid?"  
I am afraid, but people don't mind me being there as they know me from trading with my mum.  
"I'm not afraid." I lie. "I need to trade in my game; I can't just let it rot. If you want, you can wait outside?"  
Rye considers this before shaking his head. "I'd rather not be alone. Besides, I want to learn how to hunt and trading seems to play a big part in it."  
"Mum already taught you the basics."  
"Well, why can't you teach me some more? I'll need the practice if I ever get picked for the games."  
I give him a concerned look. "I'm hardly fit to teach you anything Rye."  
Fancy that! My 11-year-old brother wants me to teach him how to hunt! Little does he know I lied about being able to easily take on a wild dog, they're pretty hard to kill and it's probably wiser to scale a tree than to try and fight them. In all honesty, I'd probably freeze in my tracks and end up being mauled to death.  
"It's better than nothing." He replies. "I've practically forgotten everything that Mum has taught me, so if I get picked for the games, I won't even remember how to defend myself."  
"You don't even need to be thinking about the games Rye, you aren't even in the draw until next year and even still, your name will only be in there once since we don't need to take out Tesserae."  
"That didn't stop Aunt Prim from being picked."  
I sigh. "We'll see," I say, pulling him by his hand into the Hob.

We enter the hustle and bustle of the hob and walk straight over to Greasy Sae. I pull a squirrel out of the game bag and dump it on the counter in front of her.  
"A gift from me,." I say, smiling at her.  
Sae winks at me and chuckles.  
I take my brother by the hand once more and lead him round the stalls to look at all the jewellery. I scan the collection of jewellery, hoping to some sort of token like mother's Mockingjay pin but I find nothing and give up my search.  
"Let's go," I say giving Rye a nudge.  
"Finally." He mutters under his breath.  
Before going home, I stop by my mum's old house in the seam to drop back her hunting gear.

"How are you feeling about tomorrow Willow…are you scared?"

"Scared? Of what?"  
"Just because our parents are Victors, doesn't mean that we're immune to the Reaping!"  
"I know." In fact, it probably means we're much more likely to be chosen, but I decide not to share this thought with Rye.  
"Don't worry though Willow, they won't pick you this year."  
I look down at Rye with sad eyes. I know he's trying to be reassuring so I manage to force a smile. "Let's hope you're right."

I walk with Rye into our home in the Victors Village. Immediately, I hear my mum shout from the kitchen.  
"Willow you're late!"  
My mum comes walking to the main hall to greet me and is surprised when she sees Rye with me.  
"I got a bit held up...as you can see," I say gesturing towards Rye.  
"Right well, you'd both better hurry up and get dressed for school, you've got to leave in 10 minutes."  
With that, I run upstairs and quickly change out of my clothes and into a presentable school dress. I don't bother to redo my hair and so I go back downstairs to the kitchen for some food. My mum has already laid out a thick slice of bread, coated in goat's cheese for me.  
"You can't go to school with your hair like that."  
I huff as I plonk myself on the chair and eat my slice of bread. She comes over and takes out my fishtail braid which has been ruined by the wind and does my hair in 2 simple braids.  
"I used to have my hair like this for school." She says, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears. "Your dad will remember."  
I get up and walk to a nearby mirror. The plaits make me look about 5 years younger than I actually am and I pretend to love the style to please my mum, even though I'm not so keen. My mum always seems to be on edge so I do my best to please her.  
Rye comes down shortly and is given a slice of bread to eat on the walk to school.

School that day was as boring as it always is. We learnt mostly about coal, again. Rye and I walk back home together and the moment we walk through the door, the smell of our dinner has wafted in from the kitchen, and into the hall. We always have a special dinner before the reaping, just in case it's our last meal as a family in our own home. Aunt Prim and grandma usually join us. No one ever says that this is the reason but no one has to, we all know why, but it's too heart-breaking to think about, we can't afford to think like that.  
For dinner, we eat a stew that grandma makes every year. Nobody says much, but I think we're all too busy enjoying the stew.

At bed time, my mum comes to tuck me in.  
"Mum?" I ask as she strokes my head.  
"Yeah?"  
"What's that song you used to sing to me?"  
"The lullaby?"  
"Yeah, the lullaby...will you sing it?"  
She hesitates for a moment but then begins to sing:

 _Deep in the meadow, under the willow,_  
_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,_  
_Lay down your head, and close your eyes,_  
_And when they open, the sun will rise._

 _Here it's safe, and here it's warm,_  
_Here the daisies guard you from every harm,_  
_Here your dreams are sweet,_  
_and tomorrow brings them true,_  
_Here is the place where I love you._

 _Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,_  
_A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray,_  
_Forget your woes and let your troubles lay,_  
_And when again it's morning, they'll wash away,_

 _Here it's safe, and here it's warm,_  
_Here the daisies guard you from every harm,_  
_Here your dreams are sweet,_  
_and tomorrow brings them true,_  
_Here is the place where I love you._

By the end of the song, tears are running down my mum's face.  
"Mum, are you okay? You didn't have to sing if it made you upset-"  
"No, no. Willow, it's fine, I'm fine. The song brings back a memory, that's all." She wipes the tears from her face and gets up, leaving a kiss on my forehead before she turns off the lights and shuts my bedroom door.  
That night, I don't get much sleep; neither does my mum. I hear her screaming from her nightmares. A scream so terrifying, I can do nothing but hide under the covers, clamping my hands over my ears, wishing for it to stop. Soon there's silence, and that can only mean my dad has managed to calm her down. She hasn't had a nightmare in a long time and now I feel as if I triggered her nightmare, by asking her to sing that song. My mum told me that my Grandfather once said, "Songs can be just as dangerous as a weapon."

That's why there are some songs that are illegal to sing, and I know every word of those songs.  
Eventually, I drift into a restless sleep, with images of the reaping and Mockingjay's...and forbidden songs.

 **Authors note:**  
**Hello! I'm Olivia**    
**So, this is the very first chapter of a fanfic I had previously been writing on Wattpad but this is it now edited and improved so I hope it's a billion times better! Of course, credit to Suzanne Collins for the lovely lullaby.**  
**I hope you liked this first chapter, I was hoping to give an insight into Willow's normal, day to day life before the bad stuff happens.**  
**I always love seeing comments or constructive criticism or even suggestions for future chapters! So don't hesitate to interact with me, I don't bite!**  
  
**Thanks for reading!**

**Olivia**


	2. The Reaping

**Chapter 2**

I'm gently roused from my sleep by my mum and I prop myself up onto my elbows.  
"Morning, sleepyhead." She says in a quiet, raspy, voice. My mum looks rough. You can clearly see the bags under her eyes from a sleepless night. "Did you sleep okay?" She asks.  
"Yeah, I slept fine." I lie.  
"Good, well our prep team will be here in an hour and I know that they'd like to help you get ready too so quickly hop in the shower, wash your hair, do whatever. Just make sure you've got a towel around you for when they get here because they won't hesitate to walk in on you naked!"  
"Oh gosh, I definitely don't want that happening again." I laugh. Last year, the entire prep team walked in just as I was about to step into the shower and insisted that they wash me. I had to endure an awkward sponge bath from them they literally have no boundaries, none. I get up, quickly shower and sit in my towel eating a slice of toast while I wait for my prep team to arrive.

Soon enough, the prep team arrive and I'm rushed back into my bedroom to get dressed. The prep team chirp like birds as they look through my wardrobe, deciding on what I should wear. Down the corridor I can hear Effie barking orders at everyone, stressing that we must leave at 12:55 on the dot to get to the reaping with plenty of time to spare, especially since Effie and my parents need to be there earlier than everyone else. All of a sudden I hear multiple gasps, followed by an awful squealing sound.  
"It's perfect!" Venia says in delight as she holds up one of my dresses. The dress is a soft, baby blue and has a white collar. It's a fitted dress that I wear on special occasions.  
"That colour will look fabulous on you Willow! It'll really compliment your blue eyes!" says Flavius.  
"Put it on, put it on, put it on!" Octavia chants excitedly.  
I sigh before taking the dress out of Venia's hands and I put it on. The Capitol's interest in fashion will never fail to bewilder me, it's absolutely pointless. Once the dress is on, the prep team stand there gawping at me.  
Venia hands me a cream coloured coat to put on with it and they all sigh in sync.  
"Willow you look absolutely beautiful! You look so angelic! Now that I've seen how wonderful your brown hair looks with your outfit, I think I'm going to dye my hair brown!" says Flavius.  
_You mean buy a brown wig. As if that's his real hair! For all I know, Flavius actually has dark skin and ginger hair._  
The other two are too busy holding back tears to comment.  
After they've pulled themselves together, they sit me down on a chair and begin on my hair. After what feels like hours of brushing, pulling, and blow-drying my hair and listening to them talk about what they think Cinna has done with my mum, the prep team step back to admire their work. They've braided both halves of my head but left the bottom half down which falls into perfectly sculpted ringlets. The braids are then pinned at the back of my head in a way that looks like a flower. The prep team are dying to use makeup on me but I refuse.  
"We'll make you look natural, we promise!" Octavia says as they all pout at me.  
"Ugh, fine," I mutter, even though I hate the feeling of it on my face. The last time I wore makeup, I merely rubbed my eye and the next thing I know, I've got Effie screeching at me, explaining how I've smudged the prep teams beautiful masterpiece.  
They add a little bit of pink blusher to my cheeks and apply a light layer of mascara before finally finishing off with a nude lipstick which isn't noticeable and it doesn't look or feel as bad as I thought it would. "Wow...thank you guys so much," I say as sincerely as I possibly can. It's not that I don't appreciate it but I don't particularly want to stand out. I don't feel like I should be dressing as if the reaping is a special occasion, I think it would be more suited if everyone dressed in black as if it were a funeral because let's face it, District 12's tributes don't exactly have a winning streak.

The prep team are eager to present their work to Cinna and Portia, and excitedly lead me to my parents' bedroom where Cinna is styling my mum. Cinna has done a wonderful job. My mum looks very elegant and her features are delicately outlined. She's wearing a smart, cream coloured ruffled top, tucked into a pencil skirt and a simple pair of heels. Her hair is in an updo which makes her look very mature but I can tell she'd rather be having her usual braid.  
"Mum, you look so lovely! I wish I looked like you..."  
"Oh no, I wish I looked like you little duck!" she says coming over to me. "You look so beautiful, I'm sure every girl in district 12 will wish they looked like you."  
"Oh yes, you'll be the talk of the district." Octavia chimes in and the rest of the prep team nod in agreement.  
_As if District 12 is interested in fashion._  
My Dad walks in, already dressed in a casual shirt and trousers, and his hair slicked back. "You both look beautiful." He says.

"Oh! I'd almost forgotten!" Says my mum suddenly as she goes to take something from her drawer. When she returns, she presses something cold and round into my hands. "I found this in an old box and I thought it would be nice if you had it since you haven't got a token."  
I open my hand to look at what my mum had given me and my mouth curves into a smile.  
"Your Mockingjay pin?"  
"For good luck." She replies.  
"Wow...thank you mum," I say a little taken aback. I'd never thought in a million years that she'd want to see this pin ever again, surely it would bring back too many bad memories?  
"Here." She says, "Let me pin it on your dress for you." She bends down and carefully pins it just below the collar of my dress. "As long as you have this, it will protect you. I'm not saying that nothing bad will happen because we both know that that's not true, but it's worked for your Aunt Prim, it's worked for me, and I'm certain it'll do the same for you."  
Breaking the moment, a loud sob escapes from Octavia's mouth. "Imagine the Capitol watching this right now, the whole of Panem would be as emotional as I am! It's just such a beautiful moment between a mother and daughter and I feel so honoured that I got to witness it and-"  
"Octavia, I think, maybe we should let them have their moment alone?" Cinna interrupts.  
"Oh of course, of course! Silly me!" She chuckles. "Well, you heard Cinna!" She says to the rest of the prep team. "Let's leave the happy family to have their private, special, wonderful, precious-"  
"Octavia!"  
"Right! I'm actually leaving now Cinna, sorry!" And with that, she tots out, shutting the door behind her.  
We make casual conversation until Effie comes into the room telling us that it's time to go.

We reach the Justice building at exactly 1:20 pm and as usual, the Justice building is decorated with bright banners. Rye will arrive with my Grandmother and Aunt Prim to watch from the crowds behind the potential tributes.  
"Go sign in and we'll see you soon." my Dad says.  
"Okay, see you soon."  
I silently walk over to the line of teenagers and wait for my turn. I watch and see new people arriving, the look of anxiety and pure terror across their faces.  _It could be any one of us._  
I finally reach the front of the line and I'm presented with a harsh looking peacekeeper.  
"Give me your hand." They say sternly and I obediently do so. They prick the tip of my finger and I'm then quickly waved on to join the group of 16-year-old girls. I suck on my finger for a while to ease the slight sting the jab gave me and I stand and wait in an orderly fashion. Slowly, the crowd builds up and soon enough the town square is filled with the residents of District 12.  
The clock above the Justice building strikes two and Effie walks out, right on cue, with my parents, Haymitch, and the Mayor following closely behind. The Victors and Effie take their seats while the Mayor walks up to the microphone.  
Madge, the Mayor, then begins to read the same speech heard every year. She begins to tell us of the history of Panem and I completely zone out. The previous Mayor read so unbearably slow that it was almost a relief for him to pass the role onto his daughter, Madge. My Mother is friends with Madge, we often share a meal with her and her family on special occasions. When I zone back in, Madge is reading out the list of our Victors, only one is no longer with us. Thankfully, Haymitch doesn't appear to be drunk in public any more thanks to my parents and is currently sitting in his chair, eyes closed with his head gently swaying. If I listen carefully, he appears to be humming.  
Everyone gives a respectful clap when the speech is done and the Madge introduces Effie before she sits back down on a chair. Effie then energetically jumps out of her seat and more or less skips over to the microphone. Evidently, Effie is as bubbly as she usually is and drabbles on about what an honour it is to be in District 12 when really, she's only here for Haymitch and my parents otherwise, I'm sure she would've moved up to a better District years ago. She goes on to say her signature "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be  _ever_  in your favour!"  
Beforehand, I hadn't really taken any notice of what Effie was wearing this year but I must say, she should never again wear a red wig. Her big, bright, fluffy outfit does not compliment her wig at all, she looks much like a clown which, I have to admit, adds some humour to the atmosphere.  
The dreaded moment arrives and it's time to reap two unfortunate kids.  
"Ladies first!" Says Effie and she tottles over to the glass bowl in her 6-inch stiletto heels. Effie elegantly puts her hand in and begins to dig deep into the pile of names until she latches onto one and dramatically pulls it out. She waits till she arrives back at the podium to open it and I find myself sucking in a breath. Then I see the excitement on Effie's face slowly fade away and she begins to stutter.

What's wrong with her? Effie never stutters, unless she's picked a name that belongs to someone she actually cares about, Effie would never, ever stutter. Manners and proper etiquette are a big deal for Effie so whoever it is, they must be pretty special.

Then it dawns on me.

My heart sinks. I feel the colour drain out of my face and suddenly, it feels like there's no air for me to breathe. There's only one person in this crowd that Effie cares enough about for her to lose control over her emotions on live television.

 _That person is me_.

 

**Author's note:**

 

**Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! We'll be meeting my favourite character (other than Willow ofc) soon, I'm so excited! Now that the Hunger Games franchise is over, I really love to be able to immerse myself back into the world of Panem, it's all nostalgic aww.**

**Thanks again!**

**Olivia**


	3. Chapter 3

To confirm my thoughts, I hear Effie saying my name clearly into the microphone. At first, I stand in my place, paralysed in shock, unsure of what to do with myself. I can feel everyone staring at me and I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. For a brief moment, I look around me and see the relief on the other girl's faces, which only fills me with more dread. Unreasonable thoughts of running away enter my mind but I know that I cannot escape; I can only desperately hope that it wasn't my name that was called out, that it was someone else's instead. _My name was only in there five times, the odds should have been entirely in my favour._  
I must have been standing still for too long as the next thing I know, I'm being grabbed by two peacekeepers and dragged by my arms towards the stage. This brings me out of my trance and I immediately wrench myself from their grasp. They go to grab me again, thinking that I want to escape, _but where would I go?_  
"I can walk by myself!" I shout, my voice cracking in fear and desperation. I attempt to release myself from their grasp once again. I hear a grunt from one of them and they drop me rather violently, shoving me forwards, and I struggle to keep my balance as they do so. As I walk, they dig their batons into my back to ensure that I walk in the right direction. Everyone's eyes follow me as I walk down the middle of the crowd, which makes me uncomfortable so I do my best to fixate on a point ahead of me, avoiding any eye contact and keeping my head high. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,_ I chant as I walk.  
I reach the steps leading to the stage where Effie stands at the top with a fake smile plastered across her face, ready to lead me to my place. One of the peacekeepers gives me one last painful shove with their baton, digging it into my spine to prompt me up the steps. I bite my lip to stop myself from wincing and I mount the steps up onto the stage. Effie gently puts her arm around my shoulder once I've reached the top and carefully leads me to a place next to the microphone.

"And now for the boys!" Chimes Effie, trying to sound as enthusiastic as she possibly can.

While Effie goes over to the bowl containing the boy's names, I take a moment to glance back at my parents seated behind me. Already, I can tell it was a mistake. They're both clutching onto each other, my Father's eyes are watery and his jaw is clenched, my Mother's face is buried into his chest, her body shaking as she cries. I pull my glance away immediately and bite my lip once more, choking back the tears. _Don't cry. Don't make yourself look weak. It's all going to be okay._ I stare ahead of me and fixate on the hills belonging to the woods beyond the fence. Memories of my mother taking me hunting and stopping for some bread and cheese upon those hills come to mind but are soon cast away as I hear Effie read out the male tribute's name.

"Ruben Bransworth." Says Effie as her eyes search the crowd for the 'winner' of the boys reaping.

_Oh God_ , I think, _not him, anyone but him_. Ruben Bransworth: the boy in the year above me that nearly every girl at the school is head over heels for. _Imagine the heartbreak those girls must be facing, how truly devastating_ , I think sarcastically. He's your typical tall, dark and handsome type of guy; 'deeply honey' comes to mind when looking at his smooth, golden skin. His usual wild, poufy curls have been somewhat tamed and rest in wet ringlets upon his head. It's a shame his pretty face has an ugly personality, he's cocky and completely self-centred with little regard for others, perhaps he's finally getting what he deserves. _But no one deserves this..._  
He barely has time to register his shock before a path clears for him as the boys around him step away. He recovers quicker than me and obediently makes his way to the stage without the helpful encouragement from the peacekeepers. He stands in his place calmly and looks out blankly towards the crowd, with no emotion shown on his face. He's a notably taller than me, which is pretty tall considering I'm around 5'8, although, he's clearly muscular due to him being the blacksmith's son.  
As the Mayor returns to read the dreary Treaty of Treason, I look out to the crowd and end up catching the eyes of my relatives. My brother Rye stands with my Grandmother, my Aunt Prim and Gale and they're all fighting tears. Once the Mayor has finished, he gestures for me and Ruben to shake hands. He shakes my hand and we share a very awkward glance. In those few seconds, I notice his eyes sharing a likeness to the meadow at the beginning of spring; a lush, pale green of the new grass sprouting, with patches of earth still recovering from the winter thaw. _Did I seriously just analyse the colour of his eyes? I blame my father for teaching me colour theory._ We stand once more to face the crowd as the anthem blares out, signalling the end of the reaping. Once the anthem finishes, we're lead into the Justice Building and taken into separate rooms where we'll say our goodbyes to our families and friends.

_ I might be waiting here a while _ , I think. No doubt there'll be many people visiting Ruben but as for me...family is all that I have. I have no friends but I assume no one wants to be friends with me because nobody wants to be involved with a Victor. People believe it can only lead to bad things and that includes being involved with Victor's children, therefore, Rye and I only have each other to keep our company. I decide to take a seat at the window bay and watch as the crowd slowly clears out. I start to think about what would happen if I didn't survive; Rye would be terribly lonely; I couldn't imagine spending a day without him. My mother wouldn't be able to handle it, she'd most likely fall into a depressive state and my father would be too busy trying to keep her together to notice Rye falling apart. Aunt Prim is too busy studying to be the District's Doctor; she's even been planning to reopen our family's Apothecary store, along with my Grandmother's help. Gale works down in the Mines every day and has his own family to care for.

I press my head against the icy window pane, squeezing my eyes shut and _willing_ myself not to cry. I get a fright when the door is brashly shoved open, and my Brother, Aunt Prim and Grandmother, come rushing in. Rye is the first to throw his arms around me.

"They can't take you!" whimpers Rye, "You can't leave me! I won't let them take you away-"

"Rye, it's okay-"I start, but I'm cut off by his sobbing.

My Grandmother gently coaxes Rye off of me and calms him down. "Now don't you worry about Willow, she's brave and strong, just like your mother."

"Yes," continues Aunt Prim, "and she knows how to hunt! She'll win, she has every advantage."

"Exactly!" I say, "I will be the one coming home, I will win, I won't leave you."

"Promise?" he asks.

I look at him for a moment, it seems he's more afraid for me than I am for myself, and I reply, "I promise." Somehow, I manage a smile.

The door is shoved open once more and two Peacekeepers come storming in. "Time's up." One grunts, grabbing at my family to be pulled away.

"No!" cries Rye, and he latches onto me for one last hug.

I hold him close to me and bury my head in his dirty blonde curls. "Hey, it's okay! I love you Rye and I'll see you soon, I'll be back before you know it!"

Just then another peacekeeper enters the room to remove Rye and he's ripped from my arms. I watch helplessly as I see him carried out of the room, kicking, screaming and crying. And then there's silence. I feel suddenly overwhelmed: my throat has gone tight and my eyes sting with tears. _You can't cry, you mustn’t._ I manage to blink back the tears and take in a deep breath. _You're going to come home,_ I think _, you have to._

I'm lead out of a back door and into the car. The journey to the train station is a short one, and once we arrive, cameras are there to greet us. _Good thing I hadn't been crying._  
I board the train, avoiding as many cameras as I can because the constant camera flashes are aggravating. The doors hiss as they automatically close behind me and I take a seat by the window. I look out, letting my mind wonder when my eyes find Ruben, waving to the cameras, putting on a show while Effie waits for him at the doors of the train looking impatient. I roll my eyes; he's already flaunting himself to the Capitol, how ridiculous. Effie finally manages to coax Ruben onto the train and he decides to seat himself opposite me.  
"Having fun?" I say tauntingly.

He rests his leg on his knee and folds his arms behind his head before replying, "Oh I'm having a whale of a time, thanks for asking! Although, you would have thought there'd be a red carpet, quite disappointing really."

30 seconds alone with him and already, I can't stand his vexing attitude. "We're tributes not royalty."

"Speak for yourself."

"You know; cockiness is a very unattractive quality."

"First of all, I'm not cocky. Secondly, even if I were cocky, I could never be unattractive, it's just impossible."

I scoff at that last comment.

"Oh Willow, let's be honest. You're not exactly an oil painting are you?'

" _Excuse me_?"

"Not to worry, though, you'll still have lots of sponsors which means I'll have to try a bit harder to keep up with you."

"Keep up with me?"

"My goodness, I thought you'd be a little brighter considering."

"Considering what?"

He lets out a little sigh and shifts forwards, his arms acting as a pillar for his body as his hands rest on his knees. "You're the daughter of 2 Victors."

"So?"

"So, you're already in the spotlight and no doubt that the Capitol already loves the girl of fire's daughter! I mean just look at you, you're basically just a younger, less talented version of Katniss!"

"How dare you!" I yell, rising out of my seat.

He matches my height, towering over me. "Trying to be intimidating are we?"  
"Oh shut up. You think you're so prestige, don't you? Well, wake up sunshine, because an attitude like that _certainly_ won’t get you any sponsors."

"Oh, but if it were up to your personality, I'm pretty sure that sponsors wouldn't even bat an eyelid at you. Thank goodness for that sterling reputation of yours because let's face it, without your parents' status and reputation, you're nothing!"

I feel my face go hot with anger and I grab for the bottle of whisky, resting on the side table next to me and swing for him. He veers back and laughs as I hit all but the air in front of him. I immediately regret my actions but I stand my ground regardless.

"Okay Willow, how about you put that down, or give it to me before you hurt yourself." He says, still laughing. He reaches forwards to take the bottle from my hands however, I kick him before can get too close. I was aiming for his leg however, my kick went to a more central area, causing him to cry out in pain and double over.

"What in the _hell_ is going on?!" Shouts Effie as she steps through the doorway with the other Victors behind.

Her outburst startles me so much that I drop the Whiskey, smashing as it hits the floor.

"Ah great, I was saving that Whiskey." I hear Haymitch mutter in the background.

Effie's face has turned an odd purple colour and her face is scrunched up with rage. "Fighting with another tribute, before the games? What on _earth_ were you two thinking?! Surely you both know the rules?"  
We both nod.  
"Right then, I expect you both to behave in a more civil manner, do I make myself clear?"

Again, we both nod.

"Good." Says Effie, letting out a sigh of relief. She waves her hands over her face and recomposes herself and suddenly switches mood. "Who wants some food? I must say, these biscuits are absolutely divine!"

"I'll pass," I say. "In fact, I'd rather be alone right now." With that, I walk through the doors towards the back of the train.

I sit at the back of the train, looking out of the window. I watch as the train station of District 12 becomes nothing but a blur. A thought occurs to me that I may not see District 12 ever again and I feel a pang of sadness. I think about allowing myself to cry when I hear the cart door open. My mother and my father walk in, hand in hand, and I'm filled with relief. We all sit together, held in each other's arms and I bury my face into my father's chest, taking in his scent. He smells like freshly baked bread and cinnamon, the smells that I associate with _home_. No one says a word, but we don't need to, for actions speak much louder than words.

** Author's Note: **

** Hello! So Ruben (one of my favourite characters) has just been introduced, what are your first impressions of him? **

** I don't have much to say other than thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy my fanfic! **

** Liv **


	4. Chapter 4 - The Capitol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow's train journey into the Capitol.

After dinner a luxurious dinner of roasted rabbit in a red wine sauce with an array of brightly coloured vegetables, I could barely fit desert, so I bring my carrot cake with me as we all sit in a living area and watch the recap of the reaping. Even though at home I did eat well, the food was nothing compared to the fine Capitol cuisine. I make sure I seat myself as far away from Reuben as physically possible, we wouldn't want another cat fight. He tries to catch my gaze a number of times but I turn a blind eye to it. The sight of my parents cuddling on the sofa puts a smile on my face and reminds me of cosy winter nights by the fireplace. When Rye and I were younger, we would both tiptoe downstairs from our beds and join our parents on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. Even though we were supposed to be sleeping, they never seemed to object. I feel a pang of sadness at the thought of Rye so I try push the memory away and I settle down to eat my cake. The holographic TV is turned on and Caesar Flickerman is introducing the reaping alongside Claudius Templesmith. First up, is District 1. There are multiple volunteers which are very common for Districts 1 and 2 but in the end, an 18-year-old girl called Cicely and a 17-year-old boy called Duke are chosen. In District 2, a 16-year-old girl called Sille and an 18-year-old boy called Vince are chosen. I feel sick with dread and we haven't even reached district 3 yet. Perhaps I should slow down on the cake. Either way, these tributes already look much stronger, taller and faster than me. I'm not sure I want to watch this anymore, but I know I have to. I need a clear idea of what I'm up against. Only a few more tributes catch my attention, otherwise most of the tributes look quite average. A 15-year-old boy from District 3 called Akamai, he’s bound to be smart; a 14-year-old girl named Anaya who seems very cocky; a 17-year-old girl called Elin from District 5, there's something about her than just makes me feel uneasy; finally, he didn't so much catch my attention as a threat but I felt sympathetic; a 13-year-old boy called Bai from district 9 who looks like he's about 8 years old.  
"He won't last two minutes..." I hear my mum mutter under her breath. I can tell from the way she says it that he reminds her of Rue. Not only that, but the sad thing is, she's right. This year, a strong set of tributes have been selected, most are my age or older, and I doubt my own survival let alone Bai's.  
The District 12 reaping is shown, and I cringe every time there's a close up of me, why do they feel the need to zoom in so much? My long nose seems to protrude from my face and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I look visibly sweaty, yuck.  
"Oh Willow, you look like an absolute treasure!" Effie says, clearly choking up. I give Effie a smile of gratitude despite my thoughts, I'm not in the mood for yet another lecture about manners. At long last, the recap ends with a quick summary from Claudius and Caesar, and the TV is turned off.  
That night, I lie in my bed and stare up at the ceiling. In the darkness of the room, I can see the diamond encrusted chandelier swaying gently from the slight motion of the train. I look over to the clock and see it is only 10 o'clock and sleep seems to elude me. Usually, I fall asleep within 10 minutes but it's been a whole hour and the most I've done is roll over onto my side. I guess seeing the other tributes from the reaping recap has given me an insight into what I'll be up against which only builds up my terror. Tomorrow we'll arrive in the Capitol and be greeted by the very people who'll cheer at our deaths: there's nothing that disgusts me more than the thought of that. The longer I lay here, the more I'll frustrate myself thinking about the Capitol. I can feel my temperature rising and my body breaking out into sweats. I suddenly feel suffocated by the weight of my duvet covers and so I throw them off of me and get out of bed, eager to be anywhere that doesn't make me feel so imprisoned.  
I find myself on some sort of balcony above the room from the back of the train. I stand, leaning on the banister, drinking a hot chocolate given to me by an Avox, while the wind causes my hair to sweep into a tangled mess around my face. The cold air is surprisingly refreshing against my bare skin although, I regret not bringing a dressing gown or at least a pair of socks, I can already feel goose bumps prickling my skin. I'm half tempted to throw out my arms and pretend I'm a bird flying through the cool night air. I can only imagine the sense of freedom I'd get. If I were any kind of bird, I'd like to think I'd be a Mockingjay. It seems like such a turbulent animal, being something that the Capitol never intended to create; finally, something that the Capitol can't control.  
"Isn't it a tad cold to be wearing a flimsy nightdress outdoors?" A familiar yet unpleasant voice says, interrupting my thoughts. I don't bother to turn and face him for Reuben has already appeared by my side and is now also leaning over the banister. "I mean, I would give you my dressing gown but I'm stark naked beneath and I don't intend to give you the satisfaction of seeing my glorious co-"  
"God you are absolutely vile! How the hell did you even find me up here? And more importantly, who the hell sleeps naked?"  
"As interesting as these questions are, might I suggest you not waking up the whole train?"  
My cheeks flush with embarrassment.  
"And on the contrary, I'm most certainly not vile and in fact, find myself to be quite delightful."  
"Ha. You’re most certainly not."  
"I believe that's a matter of opinion."  
"I guess you are entitled to those beliefs but then again, roughly 80% of people who have a mental illness don't actually know they have it so perhaps that's why you have no recollection of your unpleasant nature."  
"You know Willow; jealousy is a very ugly sin..."  
"In what way am I jealous?" I laugh.  
"Well, bullying usually occurs because a person is jealous of another."  
"I am not a bully. If anything, you are the bully."  
"Since the incident from this morning, I've done nothing particularly brash towards you."  
"You were snarky towards me just now!"  
"That was actually just humour, you need to lighten up."  
"Did you seriously just tell me to lighten up?"  
"Would you rather I said the word brighten instead of lighten?"  
"Oh stop being so unbearable for just one moment won't you?! We are on a train on its way to the Capitol where we are about to be put into an arena and slaughtered, and you're asking me to lighten up? Give me a break!"  
"There aren't many breaks I can give you unless you're suggesting I break a bone of yours, in which case I'd be happy to comply-."  
"Oh just shut up! Stop!"  
"Stop what?"  
"Whatever this is you think you're doing!"  
"Well before you rudely insulted me, I was planning to apologise."  
"Apologise? What's the point? We are going to have to kill each other in the next few days, I don't think it's wise to be making friendships."  
"Well if not a friendship, why not an alliance?"  
"Are you joking?" I scoff.  
"Well, why not?"  
I glare at him.  
"Ouch. I'm guessing you really hate my guts then?"  
"I don't hate you. It's just, if you happened to get strapped to a whipping post, I'd ask the Peacekeeper if I could have a turn of flogging you."  
"Well, I've been told I have a nice curved and muscular back so at least you'd enjoy the view." He says with a smirk.  
I can't help but roll my eyes.  
"Tell me you'll at least think about it?"  
I scan his face to debate whether or not to trust him but his expression is inscrutable.  
"Fine." I huff, "I'll think about it."  
His face changes into coy smile. "Well I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"  
"Well there isn't really a way for me to avoid seeing you is there?"  
With that, he smiles to himself and turns his back to me. Just before he walks away, he undoes his dressing gown and flings it over his shoulder, revealing his indeed, curved and muscular back, but also his bare buttocks. I take a sharp intake of breath and almost spill my hot chocolate down my nightgown. He notices and his shoulders shake as he laughs. I don't realise I'm holding my breath until he disappears from sight and I feel faintly breathless. I stay outside for a while longer hoping that the cool breeze will calm the redness of my burning cheeks before returning to my bed. I twist and turn trying to get comfortable and finally find an acceptable position. Honestly though, who sleeps naked?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for reading this chapter, and I’m sorry I haven't updated in so long, I COMPLETELY forgot because of school and the amount of writing projects I have at the moment!  
> As you can tell I really like humour and I seem to find myself really funny?? If you don’t like humour then unfortunately for you, there’s more coming lol! Reuben is literally my humour ‘weapon’…if that’s even a thing. So yeah, I hope you enjoyed reading it! I always appreciate any comments, advice or future chapter ideas, so please feel free to drop me a message or a comment!  
> Thanks again!  
> \- Liv


	5. Chapter 5 - The Capitol

I arrive into the dining cart and take a seat next to my father at the table.  
"Good morning." He says softly, pulling me in for a light hug.  
"G'morning everyone." I say.  
My mum replies with a smile. Shortly after, Haymitch enters the cart, squinting, presumably because the light coming from the window isn't helping his hangover. He stumbles across the room and plonks himself onto a sofa, throwing his arm across his face and groaning.  
"Rough night Haymitch?" My dad asks.  
"Umph." He replies. "I've been laying off of the drink, and I feel like I'm being dragged back into hell."  
"What's prompted you to do that?" Asks my mum.  
He sits up to look at me. "For Willow."  
"For me?"  
"Yes, for you. I am going to do everything in my power to help you survive, Willow, and if that includes staying completely sober, so be it. I can't lose my favourite girl now can I?"  
Just then, Effie tottles in and, surprisingly, she's wearing minimal makeup and a very ordinary looking blue dress. "Haymitch, get your feet off of the sofa; it's bad manners."  
Haymitch rolls his eyes but does what he's told. "Unfortunately, Willow, I have to pretend she's my favourite girl." He says with sly grin.  
"If you were pretending, you wouldn't have given me this ring you silly old man!" she says, indicating to her engagement ring.  
"Yeah, yeah, pass me a croissant will you Effie?"  
She bends down, leaving a kiss on his forehead. "Okay darling." She says, handing him a croissant.

  
It's weird, you'd never have thought that Haymitch and Effie would be together, but here we are today. They've changed each other for the better. Effie looks less freakish now because Haymitch likes her without makeup, but she still has to dress up for events such as the Reaping. Haymitch drinks considerably less than he used to thanks to Effie, but again, at events such as the Reaping, he drinks to stop the bad memories from coming back. Such different people seem to click so well with each other, it almost gives you hope that not all things in life will be bad...almost.

Reuben soon joins us for breakfast, and we all feast on a huge platter of food. Pastries, eggs, bacon, mushrooms, roasted tomatoes and a loaf of what I'm told is Tiger bread. I manage to control myself rather than cram everything I can into my mouth... unlike Reuben.  
"Reuben, try not to overdo it, you may end up making yourself sick as you won't be used to eating such rich and large amounts of food... perhaps you should at least try to slow down?" My mum says.  
"I'll be fine, I'm a big boy." Says Reuben with a mouthful of food.  
I hear a slight thud under the table, followed by a muffled "Ouch." from Reuben.  
"Manners..." Effie says under her breath, shaking her head.

Soon the Capitol comes into view and both Reuben and I are at a loss for words as we gaze out of the window, astonished by the size of it. I knew the Capitol was big but compared to what I thought it was... it is absolutely humongous! The buildings have to be 10 times taller than the trees in the forest and the whole place twinkled with lights, despite it being day time. It looks like a city you'd imagine in a magical utopian fairy-tale. How can such a beautiful place be filled with such people that cheer at the deaths of children? It's disgusting.  
Right on que, we pass through a tunnel and into the Capitol train station where there're crowds of people waving, cheering, and jumping with excitement, desperate to get a look at us. Reuben starts to wave back however I start to back away from the window in horror.  
"Willow, what are you doing? Come and wave to them, they'll love it!"  
I'm about to say no when I realise I need these people to like me. Despite how dreadful I may think these people are, I need sponsors, I need all the help I can get if I want to survive. I return to the window and hesitantly start to wave, and the crowd is noticeably more excited now that I've appeared at the window.  
We spend a few minutes waving from the window before Effie interrupts. "Right, time to go! We've got to get you to the training centre in time for the tribute parade!" She says as she finishes fixing on a flamboyant wig.  
The second the train door opens, we're bombarded with the sound of the crowd going wild, along with a constant blinding flash from multiple cameras. A few of the Capitol people try grab at us as we make our way to the car, and it's a relief when the door finally shuts, dulling the overpowering sound. I let out a long breath. "That was just-"  
"Overwhelming." Says Reuben, finishing my sentence. I nod. "I sure am glad that's over." He says.  
"Well, get used it." Says Haymitch, "Because it's only the beginning."

As we drive through the city, I stare out of the window, lost in my own thoughts. The Capitol is exactly how my parents described it, beautiful, strange but disturbing and yet, I can't help but be in awe at all the scenery. Tall sleek buildings, miraculous shops, the pristine marble pavements running through the streets of the Capitol. There's not an inch of dirt or dust in sight.  
The fashion hasn't at all changed, people's clothes often resemble animals and bright, bold colours, and other things I wouldn't know what to name, it all just fascinates me. I certainly wouldn't have the courage to go out looking so bold and extravagant, but then again these people are brought up to think that the way they dress is normal.  
We pull up to the training centre and the car door is opened for me by an Avox.  
"Come along then, children!" Says Effie.  
We then follow Effie into a lift;  
"We'll see you back at the apartment!" Calls my mother, waving to me as the doors close.  
We arrive at level -1 and we pile out. There are a number of stylists already waiting for us.  
"Right, Willow, you follow Trimarvia and Gordavicious; Reuben, you follow Penolvia and Yaedio, they'll be your prep team; cleaning you up and preparing you for your stylist."  
God, these Capitol names seem to get more and more ridiculous each year.  
I reply with a nod and not a moment sooner, I'm dragged off along a whole row of cubicles, presumably occupied by the tributes I'll be facing in the arena this year. At long last I'm ushered to a cubicle, second to last out of the many rows.  
"Right, lay yourself on this table for me, Willow" says a stylist.  
I lay myself flat out onto the table and watch as they toddle off to get all the necessary equipment. My prep team looks very freakish. Judging by the clothes they're wearing, this years 'look' must be fluffy. One of them has pale, purple skin, wearing a fluffy yellow wig with all red bobbly hair pins, plotted randomly on the wig. This is followed by a flamboyant, wet leather, pink crop top and a white fluffy skirt, much resembling a cloud. I'm guessing that stylist is Trimarvia, as it sounds like a girl’s name, I'm sure I'll find out sooner or later. I'm guessing the other stylist is Gordavicious; with disgusting pale, pigmented green skin, wearing a deep blue wet leathered body suit of some sort, 'complemented' by orange fuzzy platform shoes and a fuzzy yellow cape that drapes across his shoulders.  
They come back over with a trolley filled with soaps, moisturisers, wax, perfumes, and strange tools.” Do you think you brought enough equipment with you?” I say as a joke. Clearly they don’t get the joke and both look horrified at their mistake. “No, no I-I was only joking.” I stammer awkwardly.  
“My dear, I almost had heart failure! Imagine the embarrassment if the other prep teams had found out we’d not been supplied enough! Gordie, can you just imagine!” exclaims Trimarvia.  
“I’d sooner die than have that! Ugh, and the smug look on Radarphella’s face, just end it! End it quickly! A clean and merciful death, nothing else will do!” Gordavicious replies, in outrage.

The Capitol people are so melodramatic it’s painful, perhaps less painful than The Hunger Games itself. They’re now finished with the dramatics and begin my makeover. Firstly, I'm stripped of my gown and I lay completely naked across the table. I'm hosed down, scrubbed several times with soap and a rough sponge, followed by hot wax being spread across every inch of hair across my body. At first the wax was relaxing, only I didn't realize the horrific pain that was to greet me afterwards. They lay strip after strip of paper over the wax before they unexpectedly rip it off, leaving my skin hairless and raw. Soon enough I am completely hairless and once again being hosed down and scrubbed. I feel like a plucked Turkey. At least the Turkey isn't actually alive while it's being plucked.  
Next they spread a layer of thick, scratchy paste across my face and lay a weird vegetable over my eyes. It gives me a shock when I feel a puff of steam being blown onto my face. Soon the paste feels dry, leaving my face feeling stiff. The paste is peeled off and I see discussing lumps of skin and dirt stuck to the inside of the mask. I almost gag at the thought of that muck being on my face.  
They expertly thread my eyebrows, making me look stern. I didn't think eyebrows could make a person look much different, but I look quite intimidating. I love it.  
They babble on about how they've had strict orders not to do anything major to my hair, so they merely chop off any split ends, and clip off any stray hairs.  
Last but not least they buffer up my nails, applying a clear liquid leaving my nails looking shiny. They both step back to admire their work and sigh blissfully.  
"You look just gorgeous," says Gordavicious, his lip wobbling as he speaks.  
Trimarvia stands there sobbing uncontrollably. These Capitol people are so emotional and it's irritating. I want to get up and slap her for being so ridiculous.  
"We've got to go now, but your stylist will be here soon" says Trimarvia.  
I simply nod.  
Trimarvia and Gordavicious both leave the room and I wrap a white bathrobe around myself before sitting back down. A few moments later I hear the door open but I don't see who it is. Instead of looking up, I stare at my feet.  
"Well? Let me see that beautiful face of yours."  
I look up, half expecting to see another ridiculous Capitol citizen however I've been pleasantly surprised.  
"Cinna." I beam.  
"Nice to see you again, Willow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was more of a ‘filler’ chapter but also gives insight into the pre Hunger Games traditions so I thought I’d ‘honour’ that in the least sadistic way possible lol. I know fanfics aren’t usually this detailed etc, but hopefully it’s a good thing that mine will be?? As for those Capitol names…they’re completely made up so don’t worry about correct pronunciations lol! There’s be more action soon, I promise! The arena will be VERY exciting, I have so many ideas and just aahhh!! I can’t wait! I wonder how Reuben is getting along with his prep team, I can’t imagine he’ll be very cooperative lmao.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyhow, and I always very much appreciate comments, advice, etc!  
> Thanks again,  
> \- Liv


End file.
